


Worf and the Sky Bison

by rocktopus23



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Based on a Dream, Crossover, Silly, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocktopus23/pseuds/rocktopus23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friend had a very strange dream and tweeted about it, I thought it could easily be turned into a fan fic and I would not rest until that had been accomplished. Warning is for a very light mention of drug use? </p>
<p>The original tweet was "Star Trek TNG, weird dream edition: Worf forms a symbiotic relationship with a sky bison from Legend of Korra, Snoop Dogg guest stars."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worf and the Sky Bison

This... “vacation” had been Deanna's idea; at least, she was the one who had proposed it to him. Worf suspected that the influence had in fact come from Commander Riker, a man for whom the Frequent Visitors Program on Risa had been exclusively created. An honourable commander, no doubt, but Worf could not fathom how he managed to fulfil his duties when it seemed that every other week he would return from the pleasure planet tanned from the two suns, with a smug smile that suggested copious amounts of illicit sex. 

But even Captain Picard himself was not immune to the ministrations of Team Shore Leave—crowing on an on about the importance of mental health, a concept for which the Klingon language has no words—and so Worf submitted to Deanna's will, and soon found himself on a shuttle, hurtling toward an unfamiliar planet in an unfamiliar star system.  
Class M. Earthlike. The inhabitants, in fact, call this place “earth” and “the world” much like those on the planet where Starfleet is headquartered. All this and more was detailed in the brochure Worf thumbed through on the PADD. Four nations, a united republic. 

“They're much like the Vulcans,” Deanna had said of the Air Nation people, “peaceful, yet powerful in their way.” 

Worf had stiffened when he'd realized the temple where he'd be staying was strictly vegetarian, but having been assured he would still be able to acquire his daily prune juice, he'd relaxed slightly. 

After far too many hours of travel, the shuttlecraft dropped out of warp and slowly manouevered into the orbit of a blue planet swirling with white clouds. Worf changed from his Starfleet uniform into simple white linen trousers and a matching tunic, with a hat that sat low on his forehead, covering his most distinguishing feature. He grabbed his rucksack, and headed for the transporter bay. In short order, he materialized on the planet's surface, halfway up an interminable staircase on the side of a mountain. With a grunt, he headed up. 

Worf was greeted by a small party of strange humanoids, some sporting the same bald 'hairstyle' as the Captain. A few had blue markings that seemed to run the length of their bodies, in the shape of arrows that terminated in the middle of their foreheads. All were clothed in flowing robes of red and saffron. The largest one, a male, with a pointed beard, stepped forward. 

“Greetings, traveller!” said the man. “I am Tenzin, this is my family, and we are the guardians and residents of this Air Temple. We are honoured to have you.”  
Worf shook his hand and was surprised at the firmness of Tenzin's grip. 

“And I am Worf, son of Mogh. It is my honour to be here.” Worf liked all of this honour. 

One of the smaller humanoids piped up: “Why do you look so weird??” A male, a child, Worf guessed, from the teeth missing from the front of his gaping maw. 

“MEELO.” Shouted Tenzin, with an authority and finality that made it clear he was the small one's father. “I'm so sorry about that, he... lacks a filter.” 

Worf grunted and nodded in a way that showed he bore no offense. The oldest of the children, a girl, beckoned to him to follow, and led him to an austere but comfortable room in a wing that opened onto a training field. She was a chatty, bright child, and Worf kept his answers to her endless queries short to stop from revealing more about his life and origins than necessary, the Prime Directive always on his mind. 

“Thank you for your assistance,” he said, dropping his rucksack on a rough-hewn bamboo chair. “I do not believe I will require anything further.” 

Slightly cowed, the child made for the door. “OK. Well. Dinner is usually served around six. If you do need anything, I'm Jinora.” Another grunt in reply, and off she went. 

Having determined that the room would more than do for him, Worf decided to explore the mountainside and the surrounding area. He borrowed a staff from a basket on the training field to use for a walking stick and made his way down into the wilderness. 

*** 

About two hours into his hike, Worf began to feel a sense of gratitude towards his friends on the Enterprise. The tightness in his back had started to un-knot, and the fresh air truly was invigorating. The artificial light on board the Enterprise, though carefully calibrated, could not match the effects of genuine sunlight on his skin. Every now and again, he would see flashes at the periphery of his vision, bright colours swirling; and wait, were they shapes? Animals? But whenever he would train his eyes on the apparitions, they would vanish. Peculiar. 

The vegetation was not familiar to him, but upon finding a bush bearing lucious-looking fruit, he pulled his tricorder from his pocket and determined it to be edible. He had just finished a second juicy handful when he heard a distinct rumbling. It was steady, coming in regular intervals, and causing the forest floor to shake almost imperceptibly. Worf, struck by curiosity, followed the sound to a clearing nearby. There, his jaw dropped. 

A collection of enormous beasts, perhaps eight in total, were slumbering together in a pile. The sound had been their snoring, which, this close by was near-deafening. Although they appeared to be different ages, all were huge. 

Worf, though brave, was not stupid. He knew his instinct ought to have been to remove himself from the area without haste, but he was drawn toward them by an irresistible force. As he approached, he tried to determine the danger, but simply felt none. The beasts, large as they were, did not appear to be vicious. Their faces were impassive, with big fat black noses taking up much of the space. A ruff of white fur started above the nose and ran the whole length of their bodies and... Could it be? They too had the arrow markings that some of the Air people possessed. Their big heads also held fearsome-looking horns, and each appeared to have six legs in total. Worf was now close enough to touch one, and he reached out his hand toward the face of one that must have been an adolescent, feeling the warm, damp breath issuing from its snout. Suddenly, the beast's eyes flew open and Worf jumped back. 

The sleepy eyes fixed themselves on him, and he heard a voice—no, that wasn't right, he thought a thought that was not his own. “Hop on.” Worf shook his head to rid himself of such an odd impulse. But there it was again: “Hop on.” The shaggy beast gave a “galumph” noise, as if in emphasis of the point. So he climbed onto its back, grabbed large handfuls of fur, and held on tight. Devoid of expectation, Worf was nevertheless shocked when the beast suddenly rose fifty meters straight up into the air. 

They hovered there for a time together, and the thoughts continued to infiltrate his own. “Sky bison.” Ah, this was sensible. He had heard of the plains bison of Earth, had seen a picture at the Academy, and the resemblance was there. The “sky” part was obvious, given the circumstances. “Where to?” 

“Anywhere.” 

And so, together, they flew over the landscape, dipping low and soaring higher. Worf felt something akin to glee, although a Klingon would be hard-pressed to admit it. He was reminded of his beloved pet Targ from his childhood on Qo'noS; the smell was certainly similar enough. For the first time in a long time, he smiled. 

When the sun began to dip in the sky, Worf thought they should set down, no sooner had he thought so, the sky bison began a descent into a glade. They rested together a while, sharing in a fruit tree's bounty and enjoying the late afternoon warmth. Again, he noticed the swirling colours at the margins of his sight, although they were now much more substantial than they had been before. “Spirits,” was the bison's explanation, inside of Worf's mind. “This is a place where the connection between worlds is strong.” He accepted this without question, as the point of suspension of disbelief had passed long ago. 

A rustling in a nearby bush caught their attention. An animal emerged, canine in nature. Worf searched his brain for the word—his Judo sensei at the academy, a short, thick-necked man, had had a dog just like this one—right! A doberman. The dog loped over to them, and because the bison was unworried, Worf was unworried. As it approached, it slowly changed. Its four-legged gait shifted until it walked on its hind legs, the body lengthening and filling out, the snout shortening until a thin man with dark chestnut skin stood before them. He was clad in an outfit not unlike Worf's own, but with a flat cap turned backwards on his head. Beneath that, his hair was pulled into several tight braids, his facial hair groomed into a neat goatee, with athick gold chain around his neck. A tightly rolled cigar dangled from his lips. 

“Yo yo yo, what it do, what it DO” he drawled, the cigar bouncing with each word. The smoke that curled around them reminded Worf of the time he had disturbed a skunk on the grounds of the Academy. 

“I am Worf, son of Mogh,” he started, somewhat awkwardly. 

“Snoop” was the thin man's only reply. He pulled the cigar from his lips and held it out to Worf, who, unsure of local custom but unwilling to make an enemy, took a small puff and began to cough. Embarrassment flooded him, and he hoped this display would not cause offense. But the thin man just smiled and retrieved his offering, taking a deep drag and exhaling the smoke through his nostrils like a dragon. 

“Fine-ass Sky Bison if I do say.” he opined. “Can we take a ride?” 

Worf made a gesture of agreement, and they each climbed on, and rose into the air. As they ascended, Worf began to feel a pleasant warmth creeping through his limbs and clouding his mind slightly. A sudden ravenous hunger overcame him, and he realized it must be getting close to the dinner hour. The bison appeared to note this, and changed course to return to the Air Temple. Just as the mountaintop came into sight, Worf looked back at his companion, who had once again become a Doberman, curled up in sleep on the Bison's rump. They touched down on the training field, and the lithe dog woke and hopped off. He made towards the mountainside's forest, turning only to offer a quick wink before disappearing, a trail of purple luminescence all that remained. 

Tenzin and Jinora, having watched the Bison's approach, soon arrived. They looked at their strange guest in awe, his command of the Bison as an outsider was all but unprecedented. 

“You appear to have had a full day,” said Tenzin, in blithe understatement. 

“Indeed,” Worf replied. “I am so very, very hungry.”  
***


End file.
